Where Have all My Fathers Gone

Father's Day June 17, 2012

Today is Father's Day, and it is a day I no longer celebrate because I have no Fathers left. I think of them all when this occasion rolls around, not with sadness. It's a day I'm simply aware of and let my mind wander to days gone by.

My Dad - My biological Dad died when I was 15 in 1976. He was the youngest of 8 siblings from an Irish Catholic family. He'd had a good job as a top salesman for Carling Breweries, but got laid off bringing in much younger men at half the wage. This was a huge blow to my Dad's ego, one he truly never recovered from. Drinking was big in the 50's and he began to medicate with alcohol even more after losing his job. He was an alcoholic and had been for most of my life, and was unable to hold a job after that, often because of his drinking. My Mom had had to make the decision to leave and take my brother and I with her two years prior to his passing, I was 13 then. I loved my Dad, knew he was very sick and made no excuses for his alcoholism but did not let it stop me from having friends over or living my life. My Dad would sleep most of the day and roam at night in a drunken stupor. Life was quite different, yet I never felt embarrassed by it. It just was what it was, he was my Dad and I loved him.

I would have friends over and tell them not to disturb my Dad when he was sleeping. If he woke up, they all knew they'd have to hide. Sometimes under my bed, in the closet or on the balcony. It didn't strike me as odd requesting my friends to do this, it's what had to be done and they went along with it. I was able to compartmentalize my life and it worked for me. Sure I wished I had a “normal” Dad, but I didn't, and I did not allow it to stop me from living my life. My brother on the other hand had a very different relationship and always wanted that loving relationship from his Dad that he was never able to have. It impacted my brother's childhood dramatically in a very negative way.

My brother was very embarrassed, would never have friends over so it very much impacted him. My Dad was very hard on my brother, always had been since he was a little boy. As my brother aged, fights would erupt and my Dad could get quite physical with my brother. Was not a good environment to raise children in and my Mom did all she could to save up enough to be able to move out. We left once, went to stay with a friend of my Mom's, but it turned out she too was an alcoholic so that was like going from the frying pan into the fire. It wasn't very long before we had to move back in with my Dad. My Mom saved even more until eventually she had enough for first and last months rent and then we moved out for good into our own apartment, I was age 13, my brother age 17.

Just before Christmas 1973 when I was 15, my Dad asked permission to take me by train to my Nan's, his Mom's for Christmas. My Mom was reluctant, but I wanted to and we took the train and had a wonderful Christmas. My Dad at this point was not drinking, had been in a rehab type of place after having a shunt implanted that controlled the flow of fluid over the brain. He'd been warned that this type of surgery could be done only once, and that he was not to drink, for if he fell, it could dislodge and that would be it. His drinking had destroyed whatever naturally managed this flow of protective fluid and that is why he'd had the surgery. He had recently left the rehab and gone to live with another of his sisters, she too had a major drinking problem. We went to my Nan's and another aunt lived with my grandmother, she too had a drinking problem. Many in my Dad's family were prone to alcoholism. We'd go looking for one thing and find a drawer or cabinet filled with empty bottles. My Dad would raise his eyebrows and look at me and we'd close that drawer or cupboard and continue looking. My Nan was thrilled to have her son home and me, along with several of her other children. It was a lovely Christmas by all accounts.

Came home by train and Rob, my late husband but only boyfriend at the time, picked my Dad and I up at the train station. It was the one and only time Rob met my Dad. Rob thought my Dad was in his 60's, but my Dad was only 48 at the time, that's how badly the alcohol had aged him. One week later my Dad was dead. I was in school, had been called down to the Principal's office, me thinking it was because I'd been skipping class, but turned out it was because my Mom and cousin had come to tell me my Dad was gone. Didn't get called on the skipping that day.

Never knew what killed my Dad as his family did not want an autopsy done. My Mom didn't argue. The funeral was held and this was the first time I'd ever seen anyone deceased. My Dad looked calm and peaceful, it was open casket. I remember even then that I thought it most barbaric displaying our loved ones in death, but I didn't let it upset me. That visual of seeing my Dad like that is how I remember him still to this day. It is why I don't like open casket funerals as our memories seem to get stuck on the last visual we have of someone, anchored in your memory banks. I fixed his hair which wasn't the way he normally wore it, the service took place, the priest who officiated didn't know my Dad at all, yet let on he did and said many things about my Dad that we all knew not to be true. Also a memory that stayed with me. Everyone came back to our apartment afterwards. I was so thankful my Mom had agreed to let me go for Christmas as it was my last chance to see my Dad and I was truly grateful for that time.

I was sad my Dad was gone, but also knew that he'd never been happy without my Mom and yet had been unable to battle the alcoholism. I believe looking back that my Dad probably also had some mental illness that was never diagnosed. He'd always been babied, then married my Mom and she took care of him. He was never emotionally mature and was unable to deal with life's challenges, had no coping skills. He never would have been happy without her, so I knew even at that young age that in a way, this was probably best for everyone. My brother was distraught and I wondered how he could be upset as my Dad had always treated him so badly. I realize now my brother was grieving the loss of things ever being good with my Dad. Not that they probably ever would have been, but the hope for it was now lost forever, unresolved grief.

My step-Dad Bill: My Mom remarried later that year to a wonderful man named Bill. I had worked at my part-time job with Bill's daughter and we'd been friends without knowing her Dad was dating my Mom. When Bill was visiting and pulled out his daughter's photo, I recognized my friend Julie and shouted out, that's my friend! Small world :). Mom was 43 when she remarried for the 2nd time. She was very fortunate to have found a good man, stable, responsible and they were best friends. Bill had also had alcoholism in his past, but somehow he managed to get it under control and never had issue again. They had a good marriage for 30 years.

Bill was more of a Dad to me than my biological Dad ever was. I had moved out on my own with Rob at 15 1/2 much to my Mom's dismay, but I felt she deserved a fresh start in her new marriage and Rob's parents were wanting him to move out, so it made sense for us to move in together. My Mom, Bill and my brother were not happy at all, but knew I'd made up my mind and there was no stopping me. My Mom later shared that she so wanted to say “if you move out you can't come back!” to stop me, but she also knew I was so stubborn that even if things hadn't worked out, I'd never have come back after her saying that, so she didn't.

Bill was level headed, would always listen and give great perspective. Never judged me, always supported me and did the same with my brother. My friend had now become my step-sister and we all got along very well. My Mom got her second chance, she was happy and I was thrilled for her because she'd been through hell and back with my biological Dad. I envied my Mom's relationship with Bill in that they were best friends. They did everything together. Rob and I were not best friends although I always wanted to be and most definitely did whatever I could to make him happy. The friendship was one sided. My Mom's marriage was not perfect, there is no such thing, but it was a very good marriage overall. My step-Dad was always there for me, when I'd separated from Rob once when I was quite young there was no question as to letting me stay with them until I figured things out. He wouldn't pry, but he was there if I needed him. Many years later in 2000 when Rob my husband died by suicide, Bill my step-Dad was once again there for me. He was such a gentleman and a rock I could count on.

In 2004 Bill developed a type of blood cancer, it wasn't leukemia but something similar. He'd survived prostate cancer, had developed diabetes, had to have a pacemaker put in, but overall he'd been in pretty good shape. His health declined quite rapidly and he'd refused treatment because they were suggesting chemo with such a small chance of success and many known side effects that he chose not to go that route. Bill was amazing throughout it all even though I'm sure he felt like hell many times. I went to visit my Mom and Bill just a few days after Bill had been hospitalized. We visited him in hospital, talked, he was not doing well and could barely keep food down and had lost a tremendous amount of weight. Bill was a big, tall strapping 6'2 man, and to see him so fragile broke my heart. He got sick while I was there, I held the pan for him, helped him clean up and get comfortable again and he said “this dying sucks”. It is the only time he ever uttered what could even be considered a complaint.

My brother, step sister and I all came up to see Bill one last time but he was not awake any more. We all said our goodbyes, told him how much we loved him and that he'd fought a good fight but was tired and that it was okay to go now if he wanted to. We all left that day as all of us lived several hours away, wondering if that's the last time we'd see him. My Mom chose that night to stay over in Bill's room, something she'd never done before. She slept on a cot and he slipped away peacefully in his sleep. She was glad she'd chosen to listen to her instincts and stay that night, somehow knowing he wasn't alone. I got a call early the next morning telling me Bill was gone and I got organized and made my way back up to be there for my Mom. I felt very sad Bill was gone and knew we'd lost a good man that day. I'd lost the only real Dad I'd ever had.

My Father-in-Law Hubert: My father-in-law Hubert was quite a character. I knew Hubert, who I called Dad, for 33 years. He'd always been good to me, good to Rob, and was such a colourful person. He was far from perfect, but a super industrious entrepreneur all his life after coming to Canada after the 2nd World War from Germany. He raised his family of 3 children, Rob being the middle child, they lived a very good lifestyle, took amazing 3 month at a time trips all across Canada, the U.S., Europe and Mexico. They gave their children an education most children never got.

Hubert was an entrepreneur having his own TV antenna business for many years prior to cable TV coming in. My mother-in-law ran the administrative/bookkeeping end of it, he did the physical work. They did very well for themselves. He was such a hard worker, very handy and both he and my mother-in-law built an amazing log cabin style retirement home themselves. My mother-in-law could work as physically hard as most men. It was a beautiful home, amazing creativity displayed everywhere you looked. They maintained it themselves which was quite a feat as it had tremendous upkeep with huge windows, large gardens and a big property.

They remained until it became too much for them and sold it downsizing to a smaller place. They continued travelling for much of the Canadian winters, often back to Mexico which was a favourite of theirs. He loved my son who was the first grandchild, was the super proud Opa and was ecstatic when one year later to the day, a second grandson arrived. Hubert didn't relate to children really well, but he was a bit of a kid himself so he'd always be building something fun for the grandkids to try out, always home made of course.

My in-laws helped Rob and I out both personally and business-wise unlike any other parents I knew. They were supportive and so proud of Rob. Rob truly was the apple of Hubert's eye. Rob had inherited his Dad's mechanical abilities and had actually gone far beyond. There literally wasn't a thing in the Hildebrand household that couldn't be repaired so no need to hire a handyman when you had one built in. We had many good times, travelled to Europe for 3 weeks with my in-laws and had such an amazing time as they showed us around Germany, Austria and Switzerland. The best tour guides you could ask for!

Once Rob and I separated in March 2000, my in-laws of course supported their son, but they were also always very fair with me. They were very sad that Rob and I had split up after 29 years together and having run a successful business for 17 of those 29 years together. Our relationships were similar in that we both had run businesses together, I performing the administrative side of things as well. Things of course change with a separation, but they did all they could to still be in touch and supportive. They were very worried about Rob as he began to spiral out of control in the last few months of his life. The stress was wearing on them and in November of 2000 my father-in-law had a major heart attack. He was never the same after that, but was slowly able to recover yet no where near what he had been prior to the attack.

Rob began attempting suicide at the beginning of Dec. 2000 and they were aware of it. The stress and worry was taking a toll on them too. When Rob died by suicide at Christmas, my father-in-law was devastated as was Rob's Mom. Neither of them could believe their beloved Robert was gone. It is a pain no parent is ever prepared for and it changed them forever. They remained very supportive of me afterwards, but things were different. You can't have suicide enter your life and not have it be different.

My father-in-law's health declined over the years after Rob's suicide and he finally passed away in 2006. He never fully recovered from the loss of Rob.

My husband – Rob – father of my son: My husband Rob died by suicide at Christmas in the year 2000. He'd been the one and only love of my life for 29 years, but we had separated in Feb. 2000, yet remained working together. Our history had always been tumultuous, never a dull moment I'd always say. The spiral that led to Rob's suicide was something I could never have imagined happening to the man I'd spent most of my life with. It changed my world and everyone else's world that Rob had impact on. My son was 9 1/2 at that time, so he'd lost his Dad and he knew it was suicide. His young world changed too forever. Rob was 47 when he died.

My own biological Dad had been 48. Many similarities as Rob too was not emotionally mature, and he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder just weeks prior to his suicide after his first attempt. They say you learn your relationship skills within the first 5 years of what you're exposed to in your own childhood. I realized many years later that I had chosen my father in a husband. My life with Rob paralleled my Mom's life with my Dad in many ways. I remember she got her second chance at happiness at age 43 and I was age 43 when Rob died. It gave me hope, and yet I have not remarried or had another relationship since Rob.

Now all these many years later, I ponder and reflect on all the Fathers in my life who are no longer physically present. I no longer view Father's Day the same way because there are no Fathers left to celebrate it with. I remember when Rob died that I truly dreaded having to continue celebrating the occasion, but did so anyhow. Once my step-Dad passed away there was still my father-in-law. Once he was gone, there was no need any more.

I remember all Fathers on this day. I remember all the memories of the fathers in my life, the good, the bad and the ugly and yet I am thankful each one of them entered my life. I learned much from each one of them. My thoughts are with all Fathers on this day, those still here and those no longer here in physical form. It is a day to honour our Dads, and yet I know for some, their relationships were not good and they must contend with those memories too. There is no rule book for being a parent, or a Dad. Some are absolutely remarkable at it, others not so much – but each one is a Dad. They helped create us and gave us life.

Happy Father's Day to all the amazing Dads out there no matter where you are!